The Natural

Directed by: Barry Levinson

Written by: Roger Towne, Phil Dusenberry (screenplay); Bernard Malamud (novel)









Some movies have good plots.  Some movies have quotable lines.  And some movies have scenes which transcend film and become iconic.  The climactic sequence of "The Natural" has become one of those scenes.

It's too bad that the rest of the film doesn't live up to that final moment.  "The Natural" isn't bad, but it's not as great as the final scene that punctuates it.

The fact is, most of the movie is slow and dry.  Even some of the more exciting moments - Bump Bailey crashing through the wall - don't feel organic or alive.  Once each step of the plot unfolds, there is only one possible direction to the next step, so there's a sense of inevitability rather than surprise.  Meanwhile, none of the characters are terribly vibrant despite what is a very strong cast, so there is really nothing left to keep the story floating.

As if that were not enough, the film is very heavy handed.  There are two very clear sides: good and evil.  The good side is perfect and pure.  The evil side is totally rotten and twisted.  There is no middle, and it is almost always obvious as to who is on which side.  All of this leads to some very obnoxious symbolism.

Still, all of this absolutely worth sitting through to get to that final scene.  That final sequence - with Roy Hobbs stepping to the plate with so much on the line, his side bleeding (there's that symbolism again) - makes the entire film an instant classic.

That iconic scene expressed the spirit imagination of every little boy who ever dreamed of playing professional baseball.  It's almost embedded in the American subconscious at this point - the swing, the crack, the lights shattering, the silhouette of Hobbs rounding the bases as he's showered in sparks.  The climax evokes the magic that makes movies worth seeing.

The Thing

Every once in a while - though probably more often than I'd like to admit - I get the urge to see a good horror movie. Nothing to keep me up at night, mind you. Just a good fright. The last time I got that itch, John Carpenter's "The Thing," scratched it perfectly.

The premise of the movie is simple enough: The team at a (dubiously) scientific research outpost in Antarctica finds itself infiltrated by an alien life-form which can replicate itself into nearly any body - human or animal. One by one, the team members - led by helicopter pilot MacReady (Kurt Russell) become survivors, trying to keep the alien from getting leaving Antarctica and decimating the earth's population.

This movie has some pretty amazing moments of suspense. The scene in which the survivors have to submit to a blood test managed to keep the tension incredibly high with relatively little dialogue or action. The climactic attempt to destroy the monster managed to keep me near the edge of my seat (not "on" the edge, though), considering that most of the tropes used were basically cliche.

My favorite moment, though, is right at the end. I love the fact that the conclusion of the movie is left wonderfully ambiguous. Two survivors remain, each suggesting that the other may be the monster in disguise. Yet, without the necessary equipment, they are each powerless to stop the other or prove themselves innocent. They, like the viewer, are left to wonder whether or not humanity is safe. For a brief moment, just before the credits roll, the viewer and the characters have the exact same perspective.

The special-effects in this movie are gruesome and gory, although the stop-motion creature sequences seem a bit waxy and choppy. I think the creature would have been more terrifying if director John Carpenter had taken a cue from Ridley Scott's work in "Alien": a monster is often most terrifying when you have no idea what it looks like or how it kills. Seeing so much of the best so early in the film trivialized it. The Thing became tangible and limited, while much of what makes a creature horrible is that, when left vague and abstract, it can become almost anything capable of limitless terror.

From the primitive premise, clunky dialogue, straight acting, and absurdly huge special effects, this movie has "B film" written all over it. But the synergy of all those parts manages to elevate it to a "B+ film" - or even an "A- film" when watched in just the right mood.

Director: John Carpenter

Written by: John W. Campbell Jr. (story), Bill Lancaster (screenplay)